


disparate youth

by spectrenico



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DC Animated Universe, DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Coming Out, Crushes, Crying, Friendship, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7764700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrenico/pseuds/spectrenico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superboy makes a frustrated noise. “Why is it wrong?”</p><p>“Because…” Because, because, because. He looks at the TV, as if it’ll offer any explanation. The rugged protagonist swoons the lady in his arms. He tells her she’s gorgeous, that he could map the freckles across her skin. Dick can’t help but think of Wally’s shoulders, and the curve of his mouth.</p><p>---</p><p>Dick is trying to grapple with internalized homophobia and compulsory heterosexuality all while dealing with his responsibilities as a superhero and his developing feelings towards his best friend. His oblivious, girl crazy, undeniably attractive best friend. Yeah.. this is going to turn out well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

(1)

It's before there’s a team, or a cave, or anything. It’s just Dick and Wally and Kaldur. Roy is stuck at a gala with Green Arrow, something he made sure to voice his frustration over  _ at length  _ when he declined the invite to patrol. Roy has such a colorful vocabulary sometimes he can make even a gothamite like Dick blush.

 

Speaking of  _ blushing _ .

 

Kaldur is toned. Not toned like Wally, who's skin and bones but pinches his arms to brag about a lump that could just as likely be a tumor as it is muscle. No, Kaldur is toned like he’s got honest to god abs. So Dick can’t help but  _ look _ . It’s not weird, after all. He’s only seen Kaldur up close like this a few times, Aquaman’s been pretty over protective. It makes sense he’d be curious.

 

That’s all it is.

 

The three of them crouch on a rooftop, a clear view of their makeshift target. A weapons dealer, maybe. They’re basically stalking him to pass the time. Kaldur stretches, arms over his head, and his joints audibly crack.

 

“Christ,” Wally says. “It sounds like you just snapped your own neck.”

 

Kaldur just rolls his shoulders again. “Sorry. Stiff.”

 

Dick looks. Kaldur's tattoos, strange but intriguing, the taut line of his jaw, his eyes--oh. Kaldur stares blankly back at Dick. Dick’s been  _ caught _ .

 

Dick’s gone redder than Wally’s hair. Kaldur, though, has an expression to rival stone. His cool blue eyes flicker with confusion. “Can I assist you with something?”

 

He’s oblivious, thank god. “Keep your eyes on the target.”

 

Kaldur merely nods once and obeys. Dick can get away with little things like this, in the beginning. Kaldur is a fish out of water and Wally is still a bit star struck about the whole boy wonder thing, which is how it should be. Dick’s been doing the whole shadowy justice bit since he was nine. He’s practically a sidekick veteran. The only one that challenges him is Roy, really, and thankfully Roy isn’t here.

 

Dick decides to take his own advice. He keeps his eyes on the man they're shadowing until Bruce calls curfew.

 

(2)

The beach is secluded, which is the only reason Dick ends up outside at all. That, and Wally’s incessant tug on his arm. “You know you wanna get tan,” Wally says, sing song. “Soak up a few rays with us!”

 

‘Us’ being Kaldur, M’gann, Superboy and Wally. Dick’s carefully ducked out of any beach invites before now, but for some reason today he’s been ambushed. 

 

“What would you know about getting tan?” Dick shoots back. “You’re white as sour cream. Your skin peels off like a banana when you’re in the sun too long.”

 

Kaldur cringes. “Not a pleasant visual, Robin.”

 

M’gann’s eyes widen. “Humans shed their skin?”

 

“Dude,” Wally whines. He slings an arm around Dick’s shoulder and leans into his ear. “I need you to be my wingman. Not make Megan think I’m a snake-person.”

 

Wally’s words are hot against his ear. There’s nothing Dick’s wanted less in, possibly, his life, than to play wingman for Wally so he can make Megan politely bewildered for a few hours. So, Dick says, “Nope, busy.”

 

“Aw, doing what?”

 

“Stuff.”

 

“Conner,” Kaldur says, ignoring the back and forth between Dick and Wally. “Do you have a swim suit?”

 

“No,” Conner says. “I’ll just go like this.”

 

Wally pauses mid-plea, still leaned across Dick’s shoulder. “You’re gonna get your clothes wet.”

 

Conner considers this. Then, in one swift motion, he tugs his shirt over his head.

 

M’gann practically  _ drools _ and the temperature of the room goes up at least ten degrees. Wally says, “Oh.”

 

Conner is built like a supermodel. No, Conner puts supermodels to  _ shame _ . Even Kaldur’s eyes are on him. Though, he only barely registers the attention. “Robin,” he says, and Dick starts. Is Superboy going to call him out for oogling? Only, no. Superboy says, “Can we just go?”

 

Dick says, “Okay,” in a smaller voice than he would have liked. They start towards the beach exit, Dick and Wally lag a bit behind. Then, Wally punches his shoulder. Dick blinks, a bit taken aback and clamps down on his impulse to go for the throat until he’s immobile. It’s just Wally. So Dick rubs his shoulder and says, “Ow.”

 

Wally leans close again, but this time he’s furious and his words are slurred together in a flurry of embarrassment. “When I ask it’s all, nope busy, but when Superboy asks it’s all, oh yeah Superboy totally let’s go, just because you have a deep voice and big muscles and are  _ super hot _ .”

 

Dick doesn’t know what to say until they get onto the beach. He kicks off his shoes to feel the sand under his toes. Wally still sulks next to him, refuses to run into the water like Kaldur and M’gann do. Superboy gets his boots off after a moment’s struggle and wades into the water with them.

 

Finally, Dick says, “So you think Superboy’s  _ super hot _ ?”

 

Wally frowns. He glances sideways at Dick. “That wasn’t my point. But I mean, objectively…”

 

“Objectively,” Dick agrees.

 

“I’m not blind,” Wally says, and leaves it at that.

 

Dick shrugs and digs a tube of sunscreen out of his pocket. He rubs a bit on the back of his neck, because he might not be as pale as Wally but Happy Harbor’s sun beats down like a brick oven on any skin tone.

 

Wally says, “I’m gonna go over there and play shoulder wars with Megan.”

 

Dick rolls his eyes. “Who's gonna be the other team? Superboy and Kaldur?”

 

“Duh?”

 

“Supey’s cool and all but don’t you think he might, I don’t know, accidentally break all of the bones in your body?”

 

Wally rubs his chin. “Fair point, but we do what we must in pursuit of hot chicks. Do me.”

 

“What?”

 

“Do me.” Wally turns his back to Dick, impatient. “You’re right, I burn like the wrong toaster setting. It’s not cute.”

 

“I know I’m right,” Dick says, distractedly. He takes the bottle and empties more than half into his palm. Wasteful.

 

“C’mon, Megan’s waiting for me.”

 

Dick doesn’t have the heart to say, she’s really not. He spares a glance. Her and Kaldur splash each other with wide grins, Conner caught between them. Dick rubs his open hand against Wally’s neck and shoulders. He pretends like he can’t feel the shape of Wally’s shoulder blades and the way he shivers at the cool touch. His skin is freckled and warm.

 

“Robin,” Wally says, but Dick wipes his hand on his own jeans and steps back.

 

“Megan’s waiting for you,” Dick parrots, a bit mocking. “I’ll be making a sand castle over here, thanks.”

 

Wally sticks his tongue out. “Have fun in sand land. By the way, I’m so getting a new wing man.”

 

“Good,” Dick says, but Wally’s already zipped off in that annoying way he does. The worst thing about your best friend having super speed--you never get the last word.

 

(3)

Bruce’s been gone for a few days, which Dick would usually consider himself too old to be upset about. Sure, when he first got here and he was 9 and Bruce would just never be around with seemingly no reason behind it, he’d feel bad. But now he knows about the double life Bruce leads, that they both lead. So it doesn’t make sense how he feels...neglected.

 

But then again, it sort of does make sense. Because while Bruce definitely isn’t his parent or anything, has never made Dick call him “dad”, Bruce is the closest thing he’s got.

 

And Dick is in the middle of a crisis.

 

Wally saying Superboy was hot at the beach weeks ago sort of helped to soothe inner concerns Dick gathered from realizing his eyes lingered too closely on dudes to be normal. Noticing guys in passing couldn’t be so bad. Until, it stopped being a  _ in passing _ sort of thing. That's when Dick started to panic. Just a little.

 

Anyway, by dinner Bruce is home. Though, his face is in a magazine--the sort of gossip rag he usually dismisses with a distasteful curl of the lip. Plastered across the cover is a candid photo of two heroes, two  _ men _ , and Dick feels the blood drain from his face.

 

“Master Bruce,” Alfred says as he brings in some lamb and places it on the table with a bit more force than necessary. “Must you bring your work to the table? Such unsavory work, to the point.”

 

Bruce reluctantly closes the magazine and sets it aside. “Sorry, Alfred. A tough case.” He glances up at Dick, who starts a bit at the sudden eye contact. “Something wrong?”

 

“No,” Dick replies, a bit more quick than could be normal. “Um, what are you working on? The case, I mean. That would make you need to study...that?”

 

Bruce takes a piece of lamb and drops it unceremoniously on his plate. “A slew of heroes are being blackmailed. When they don’t comply to the anonymous requests... _ intimate _ details about them are sent into magazines like those,” he nods to the one beside him, “and the papers.”

 

“Oh,” Dick says, and he feels suddenly lightheaded. He fidgets a little, with his fork. Alfred brings a basket of rolls. “I guess I didn’t realize there were so many.” His eyes trail to the cover of the magazine. The two men caught in an embrace. His heart pounds.

 

Bruce seems too distracted to pick up on Dick’s hesitation. “Homosexual superheroes? Yes, quite a few, and most of them none too keen on their leanings being released to the public.”

 

Dick takes a roll, but doesn’t do anything but break it apart with his hands. “Why? I mean, if they already have a secret identity?”

 

“People are ashamed of it,” is what Bruce says, offhandedly, and he flips open the mag again after Alfred leaves the room. “This sort of disgusting thing ruins careers. Lives. It’s best to stop it as soon as it starts, but they let it go on so long. Now I have to clean up the mess.”

 

Dick, to his credit, doesn’t flip out immediately. There’s a long silence and a sinking feeling in the pit of Dick’s stomach. His fingers twitch, almost thrum, thoughtless movements. Dick thinks he might be ill.

 

He doesn’t know why he’d expect different, really. Bruce’s opinions definitely lean more liberal, but most people are disgusted by something like this. Dick just feels stupid that he’d thought of going to Bruce at all to talk about it. Thought he needed to talk to Bruce.

 

Bruce is seemingly oblivious to Dick’s internal horror. His eyes cross the page he reads, quick and every now and again a glance to the door to make sure Alfred isn’t on the way in to scold him. Dick crosses his arms, digs his fingernails into his elbows. He feels almost angry, for no reason at all. Bruce is right. It’s wrong, and from now on Dick will just have to try harder to be normal and--

 

“Dick?” Dick looks up. Bruce has set the magazine aside again, and studies Dick with a curious expression--edged with confusion. “You’re upset.” It’s not a question. “Why?”

 

Dick stands, so inexplicably violently that his chair makes a loud squeak from being slid sharply across the hardwood floor. “I told you, I’m  _ fine _ .”

 

Bruce only raises an eyebrow. “Your tone conveys otherwise.”

 

“No, I think my tone is conveying that I’m really  _ super not in the mood to be analyzed right now _ , o great detective.” With that, Dick stalks off. He bumps right into Alfred on the way out of the room, offers only a hasty apology before he flees up the stairs.

 

(4)

_ Robin _ the computer says, when he steps into the cave. He doesn’t know why he’s here, exactly. It’s so late Wally has probably gone home. Artemis barely ever shows up on weekdays. Kaldur might be around. Maybe he’ll want to spar.

 

“Robin!” M’gann hovers into the room, eyes bright. “I thought I heard you come in.” She frowns. “But we haven’t heard anything about another mission yet?”

 

“Nah,” Dick says. “I...you want to hang out?”

 

Her frown spreads into a genuine grin, shows all her pretty teeth. She’s beautiful. No wonder Wally is obsessed with her. “Awesome!” she says. “Conner and I were watching TV.” Her eyelashes flutter a bit when she says  _ Conner.  _ Bless Wally’s heart, he doesn’t stand a chance. “Want to join us?”

 

“Sure.”

 

M’gann leads him into the makeshift living room where Conner sits on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. He’s doing that weird thing where he watches the static channels again. Really, the boy is right out of a horror movie.

 

“Conner,” M’gann says. “Robin’s--”

 

“I know.” Conner says. He moves over on the couch, doesn’t even look up.

 

M’gann’s expression deflates a little and Dick doesn’t know why until he sits down, and realizes he’s literally come between the two of them. Conner on one side, M’gann on the other.

 

Dick feels almost bad for interrupting her play like this. “Can we watch something else?”

 

Conner looks over at him. “I guess.” He picks up the remote, albeit reluctantly. He flips the channel a few times, and stops on the E! Network.

 

There’s a blonde woman with a tight smile and an abundance of eye shadow, her voice squeaks out about how scandalous and torrid of a story she has, then images flash across the screen. The same images on the magazine Bruce was reading at dinner.

 

Embarrassment mingled with agony crawls up his throat and Dick sort of grabs the remote out of Conner’s hands to change the channel. He laughs a little, but it sounds hollow even to his own ears. “ _ That’s _ disgusting.” He doesn’t know why he says it. Okay, he knows exactly why he says it. He needs to hear it out loud. Get it through his own head. Neither of the other two say anything until Dick stops the channel on a romance movie he’s seen a dozen times.

 

M’gann looks comically confused. “I thought you said that was gross?”

 

Dick says, “No I didn’t.”

 

She blushes a little. “You just said kissing was gross, when the people in those pictures were doing it.”

 

“Oh,” Dick says, because--she’s an alien. “No, I meant.” He looks to Superboy for help, but Conner has that blank expression where it's impossible to tell what he’s thinking. “When it’s two, men.”

 

M’gann stares at him. “That’s bad?” She fidgets. “In the earth shows I’ve seen, the couple is always a boy and a girl, but I didn’t know two of the same kind was  _ bad _ .”

 

Guilt snakes up in Dick’s stomach. He feels worse than dirt. He’d expected M’gann and Superboy to agree and laugh along with him, but all he’s doing is  _ teaching _ them homophobia. “It’s…” God, he wishes he’d never said anything about it. “It’s just wrong. Okay?” he offers, hopeful she’ll leave it at that.

 

She does. Dick’s relief is short lived, though, because Superboy cuts through the silence with a loud, “Why?”

 

“What?”

 

Superboy makes a frustrated noise. “Why is it wrong?”

 

“Because…” Because, because,  _ because _ . He looks at the TV, as if it’ll offer any explanation. The rugged protagonist swoons the lady in his arms. He tells her she’s gorgeous, that he could map the freckles across her skin. Dick can’t help but think of Wally’s shoulders, and the curve of his mouth.

 

“Robin,” M’gann says, softly, and Dick remembers she’s an empath and a telepath and a dozen other invasive things. He thinks, very viciously,  _ get out of my head _ , but nothing in her face shows she was ever in there to begin with, so he feels stupid.

 

He sinks into the cushions. “Honestly, forget the whole thing. I shouldn’t have said it.” He turns up the volume on the movie, a signal to drop it that they thankfully take. It’s painfully awkward for a bit, but soon the tension lifts and it feels sort of normal between them again.

 

(5)

A few days later, Bruce comes into his room when he’s in the middle of homework.

 

“I’m almost done,” Dick says, unthinkingly. “Then we can go.” He’d made Bruce swear not to leave for patrol without him tonight.

 

Bruce sits down on the edge of his bed and doesn't say anything for a moment.

 

Dick looks up. “What is it?”

 

“You and I should talk.”

 

“About?”

 

Bruce folds his hands. “I’ve been putting this off, but you just started high school and with the age of the Internet...anyway. Now is a time in your life when you’re going to be experiencing a lot of changes and urges. I want to make sure you’re prepared for--”

 

“Wow,” Dick says. “Oh, my god. Stop.”

 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

 

Dick is mortified. “I’m  _ not _ embarrassed. But we don’t need to talk about…” He sighs through his nose, eyes trained on the papers across his bedspread. “My mom, I mean, already...we talked about that.”

 

“I realized that might be the case,” Bruce says, and he sounds so clinical. “But the talk you give to a nine year old isn’t the same type of talk you give to a fourteen year old. I’m sure there’s a lot of things about your body you still don’t know about--”

 

“Please stop talking. No offense, but my nickname is literally Dick. What exactly is it do you think I haven’t heard about by now?”

 

Bruce does not smile. “Hearing about sex from other children is exactly why I want to talk to you directly. I don’t want you to make a mistake or do anything dangerous based on information from someone else who may or may not know what they’re talking about.”

 

“Bruce, it was a joke. And what-- _ dangerous _ \--” Dick cards a hand through his hair. “Can we do this later? Or, preferably, never?”

 

More silence. Dick raises his eyes, but Bruce’s face is still infuriatingly open and impartial. “I’m not going to make you talk about it now if you’re uncomfortable. But before you try anything with anyone, I hope you’ll come to me if you have any questions. Understand?”

 

Dick can feel the heat in his face. He’d face down Vandal Savage, Mammoth and Blockbuster all at once if it’d get him out of this moment. “Okay, okay! Before I...try, anything, with a girl, I’ll come talk to you.”

 

There’s something in Bruce’s face. “That’s not what I said.”

 

Dick blinks. Once, twice. “Uh.”

 

“Before you try anything with  _ anyone _ ,” is what Bruce says, and Dick feels the word smash over his head like a plate.

 

“What,” Dick manages. “Are you talking about?”

 

Bruce barely notices. “I’m not going to act like I’m an expert on  _ everything _ , especially between two men, but I’ll answer your questions the best I can. If you want a second opinion, I’m sure Alfred or Dr. Thompson could--”

 

Again, Dick says, “What are you talking about?”

 

“I’d rather you talk to an actual adult instead of going to a peer or the Internet, at any rate, especially not the Internet--”

 

“Bruce,” Dick cuts in, urgent and shrill. “Listen to me!”

 

Bruce’s mouth closes. Then it opens. “Yes?”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“You don’t understand…?” Bruce raises an eyebrow.

 

“You said.” Dick turns away, because his head is swimming. “You said it was  _ disgusting _ . Two guys...you said...but now...I don’t understand.”

 

“What?” Bruce mirrors Dick’s confusion. “What would make you say that?”

 

He faces Bruce again, hands balled into fists at his sides. “No, you. You said--” His stomach twists painfully. “ _ This sort of disgusting thing ruins careers. Lives. It’s best to stop it as soon as it starts, but they let it go on so long _ .” It’s easy to call onto the words that have been on repeat in his head since he heard them.

 

“Dick,” Bruce says, and he looks so taken aback and so sad. “I meant blackmail.  _ Blackmail _ ruins lives. The heroes let themselves be strung along by it for months before any of them sought help.”

 

“Oh.” Dick trembles all over, and he wonders if Bruce can see.

 

There’s another long pause. “Is that why you were upset, that day? Because you thought I meant--”

 

“It’s what it sounded like you meant,” Dick says, defensively.

 

Bruce is still so  _ calm _ . “I know. I should have been more clear.”

 

The adrenaline is still in Dick’s veins. He wants to believe, but he has to be sure-- “So, you don’t think…”

 

“No, I don’t think being gay is disgusting. I would never say that.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Dick says. There’s this pressure behind his eyes that he doesn’t notice until it’s unbearable and his throat is dry. “No big deal. I misunderstood. My bad.”

 

“You did misunderstand,” Bruce says. “But that’s my fault.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.” But his voice shakes. He ducks his head sharply because  _ no _ , no. His vision blurs and his breaths come out in a rattle. “It’s,” he chokes, and he feels his face twist up even though he tries to fight it. Dick thinks he might break into a million pieces and almost as if on cue to the thought there’s arms around him, pulling him back together.

 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce murmurs, a sound muffled against the top of Dick’s head.

 

Dick tries to will himself calm, still, tries to remember one of the dozen meditation techniques he learned but they all slip through his fingers before he can materialize them in his brain. He opens his mouth to say he’s fine, but what tumbles out is, “I thought there was something  _ wrong _ with me. I thought you’d hate me.” He cries in earnest, now. He presses his face into Bruce’s shoulder, face red with shame, and feels like he’s 9 again. Like he’s just lost everything and there’s Bruce with a grim smile, to tell him it’ll never get any easier but he’s going to be okay.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Bruce says, and the words wash over like cool water. “Dick. Breathe.”

 

Dick does. Slowly.

 

Dick hears his door swing open from somewhere behind them. “Sir, Lucius is on the line and he insists that it’s of utmost impor--oh.” Dick feels Bruce’s arms tighten around him. Alfred falters for a moment. “My apologies. I’ll request he call back later.”

 

“Don’t. I’ll be right there, Alfred.”

 

“If you say so, sir.” The door swings shut.

 

Bruce slowly pulls back, and Dick raises his head from Bruce’s shoulder. Dick looks down at his own lap, to avoid Bruce’s gaze. “Sorry I got snot all over you.”

 

“Don’t apologize. But this...” He waves a hand. “Can’t happen again.”

 

Dick sucks in a sharp breath. “I know, I’m too old to be--”

 

Bruce sighs. “ _ No _ . I meant dealing with things like this all on your own. Bottling it up.”

 

Dick bursts out into a fit of watery laughter. He clutches uselessly at his stomach, looks up at Bruce to find the man not in the least bit amused. “It’s just,” Dick manages, between gasps, “ _ you _ of all people telling me not to bottle things up.”

 

It takes a moment, but Bruce’s mouth quirks up a bit in a hint of a smile. “Fair point.” The smile fades, and Bruce stands. “We’ll talk more later.” 

 

Dick winces. He’s still not looking forward to it, even after what just happened. “Yeah. Um.” Bruce’s hand is on the doorknob. “Bruce?”

 

He turns. “I have to take that c--”

 

The flying Grayson he is, Dick is across the room in an instant. Bruce’s hands come up raised, a natural impulse to strike at sudden movements. Of course, the blow never lands. Dick collides into Bruce with a soft thud, and it's less of a hug and more of clinging for dear life.

 

“Thank you, Bruce,” Dick says, and he wishes he could get it together and stop crying. This is just pathetic. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

 

…

 

Bruce doesn’t talk to him more later, because Bruce gets swept up in the case he’s working and is gone for nearly a week. That's okay. Dick feels the guilt, only it’s lighter. Easier to fight, somehow, when he has Bruce’s lingering words in his head:  _ there’s nothing wrong with you _ .

 

But it doesn’t make the words out of his own mouth go away.  _ That’s disgusting _ .

 

So. He decides he won’t think about any of it. If he shelves it all away and throws himself into the heat of battle, throws himself into  _ Robin _ , then he won’t have to deal with feeling any of those complicated things.

 

(6)

It works, for a while. It’s hard to care about feeling wrong when you’re a misstep from falling to your death, or being impaled, or drowned, or anything else that happens to Robin on a near daily basis. At school, there’s Babs. She’s hilarious and sharp tongued and they hang out a few times. It’s easy to have a crush on a girl like her, so Dick convinces himself he does. It’s great, honestly. Dick thinks,  _ there _ , because if there’s anything Bruce-- _ Batman _ \--has taught him, it’s that you feel what you want to feel. Dick wants to feel normal.

 

Then, Wally  _ screws everything up _ .

 

They hang out in the cave, sprawled out on the floor in front of the TV. Everyone else kind of does their own thing on days where there's a moment to breathe. Today, Wally brings this  _ amazing _ game Dick just  _ has _ to play. It’s basically a multiplayer shooter with parodies of heroes. 

 

To be honest, Dick couldn’t care less about video games. Once you’ve fought the monsters in real life, fake ones lose the excitement. Wally, though--

 

“What the hell, that’s not even allowed, he totally just cheated! I’m on  _ your _ team, don’t shoot at  _ me _ ! Is anyone else actually going after the payload?”

 

Wally gets into it.

 

Dick kills a few people on his own team just to hear Wally sputter. “It takes  _ forever _ to respawn, why are you killing your own team?”

 

Dick shrugs. “I consider myself a chaotic neutral.”

 

“Rob, we are literally superheroes,” Wally says. “We are both definitely lawful good.” Wally’s controller vibrates. “Augh, you  _ moron _ , why would you set off Uberman’s uber ray around your own team?”

 

Uberman's uber ray. Dick laughs. This game is really dumb. “ _ Who _ are you yelling to? You don’t even have your headset on.”

 

“Yeah, well, you don’t have yours on either!”

 

“I never play with mine on.” It’s true. The concept has just never interested Dick. The few times Wally has brought a game like this and insisted the multiplayer is better with talking, Dick sort of lets his hang limply around his neck

 

Wally yelps. He was caught in a big enough blast to tear his character limb from limb. He drops his controller into his lap, irritated. It takes a minute to respawn, not forever by any means, but it probably feels like forever to a speedster. “Okay, I’ll turn mine on if you turn yours on.”

 

“It’s not that big a deal.”

 

“You’re right,” Wally chirps back, almost immediately. “You’ve gotta be at least twelve to be on there anyways, so…”

 

Dick glares at him. “You’re so immature, KF. You’re like a kid, double dog daring me.” He takes the headset off the floor and places it around his ears, flips the switch on. He’s linked up to the chat, annoyed at himself for rising to Wally’s obvious bait. Wally does this to him. Dick always wants to prove he’s old enough, good enough, and it makes no sense because why should he care about any of that? He was ten when he first faced the Joker, screamed at Two Face he wasn’t afraid, and he’s worried about if Wally thinks he’s grown up?

 

Wally grins, lopsided, as he clicks his own headset into place.

 

It’s stupid. The other guys in the chat take a minute to complain about Dick, who murdered their characters and made them restart from the checkpoint. Wally yells at them for abandoning the payload to try and get play of the game.

 

Dick doesn’t say anything but, “It’s just a game.” As if to punctuate the statement, he takes out another one of his party members. Which, naturally, makes everyone furious. His own team ends up making it a mission to take Dick out before he ruins the game, something that even has Wally in stitches.

 

“You’re terrible,” Wally says incredulously, tears at the corners of his eyes from how hard he laughs. “These people are gonna track you down and murder you.”

 

“If they can catch me,” Dick replies, mouth quirked up. There’s a warmth that settles in his chest at the sight of Wally, grin on his face. Dick can feel the pulse under his own skin when Wally looks at him with eyes full of wonder. Wally looks at Dick like it’s just the two of them, times like this, no game or cave or Happy Harbor, just them laughing together as the sum of the universe. Dick sucks up the attention like a sponge.

 

Dick kills the medic. Then, all hell breaks loose.

 

The headset explodes, each of his party trying to yell over each other, mostly yelling at Dick, some people sounding genuinely like Dick ruined their whole lives. It’s weird, really, Dick thinks. How worked up they get over it. Like it’s real life, or like they can’t just play another course after they lose this one. And, yeah, there’s no question. Without a medic on this game, you’re pretty much guaranteed to lose.

 

It’s funny to Wally, which Dick realizes is the only reason why he’s done it. The only reason why he’s bothered to put any effort into this game at all. It’s funny to Dick, too. That is, until godofdeath99 gets all worked up over it. Godofdeath99 screams into his ear a series of violent threats and insults that Dick brushes off until it’s perjoratives, and one in particular--

 

“Cut it out,” Dick says, flatly, any mirth now gone. It’s the first he’s talked to anyone in the game, besides to laugh at them when they rage over being killed. “Seriously, shut up.”

 

Wally says, “Just ignore it, Rob,” with a light smirk, as if it’s some bad joke--in utter contrast to the way it feels like there’s a bowling ball on Dick’s chest--at the same time godofdeath99’s raspy voice crackles in his ear. Dick opening his mouth clued the loser in as to which word he likes the least, and now godofdeath99’s taken it upon himself to say it over and over at increasing volume.

 

Dick’s a child of the Internet. He knows this kind of person. Godofdeath99 feeds of any reaction, sort of like a disease. It’s dumb to take anything he says seriously. He doesn’t know anything about Dick, he’s just saying the most vile things that could come out of his mouth to get any attention. Dick  _ knows _ that. So why does he still feel…

 

Dick rips off the headset, face red. Wally gives him a sidelong glance. “Your character--” 

 

Dick’s fingers haven’t moved on the keys. Someone finally catches up to him and kills him, which beams him back to the checkpoint. Dick sets the controller down. “I’m bored. Let’s do something else.”

 

“You don’t sound bored.” Wally pauses the game, and cocks his head to the side. “You sound pissed.”

 

Dick turns away. “I’m not.”

 

Wally looks sort of, awkward. “You know not to take any of that seriously, right? That's just guy talk.”

 

“You don't talk like that. I don't.”

 

“So what?” Wally says. He scratches the back of his neck. “Those dudes say that stuff for shock factor. No use getting torn up over it.”

 

“I know that,” Dick says, and feels himself get more and more upset by how dismissively nonchalant Wally is. “I’m not torn up over anything.”

 

Wally looks unconvinced. “They don't really think you're--”

 

“I don't care what  _ anyone _ thinks about me,” Dick says, hotly, hopes Wally wasn't going to say that horrible word. 

 

Wally holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay okay, geez, volume.”

 

“Anyway,” Dick continues, fiercely, “why is it a bad thing? What if I  _ was _ \--”

 

“It'snotaboutthat,” Wally cuts in, and Dick can't stand when he does that, “they don't really mean it that way it's more of like an internet culture thing and if people didn't get offended over it and stopped making it such a big deal and  _ what did you just say _ ?”

 

It just sort of slipped out, but… “I.” He can't back down. He locks his eyes onto Wally’s, heart in his throat. “What if I liked guys and then people say things--people say  _ that _ , and make liking guys an insult?”

 

Wally’s mouth is a little open while Dick talks, as if poised to cut him off again, but Wally doesn't. He closes it, then opens it again. “But you don't.”

 

Dick flinches a little, just from Wally’s tone. That fear mingled with defiance and he gets out an equally petulant, “What?”

 

“You're not gay,” Wally says, amused by it all, and Dick has to tear his eyes away.

 

Dick’s voice drops to just above a murmur. “You don't  _ know _ I'm not.”

 

“I do,” Wally insists, so patronizing, like this is just Dick dropping a lame hypothetical to win an argument. “I think I would know if my  _ best friend _ was into  _ that _ .”

 

Dick feels numb. He gropes for the couch behind him, to use as leverage to scramble to his feet, but there's fingers closed around his other wrist. He looks down. Wally is bewildered, and Dick feels the numbness boil over into a spike of hot lava fury. “Are you even my best friend?” he says, or maybe yells. “Because if you were you wouldn’t make me feel like shit over something  _ I can't control _ !”

 

Wally’s eyes are saucers. “Wh--Robin,  _ stop _ \--”

 

But Dick can't stop. The dam has broke. “If you and Kaldur and Roy and Superboy and that guy in my Algebra class and  _ you _ , if you didn't have that stupid look on your face all the time, if your jokes weren’t the worst, if you didn't make me rub sunscreen on you, if you didn't always have my back and hang out with me and look at me like--” It’s suddenly so hard to breathe. Dick turns around and grabs Wally by the collar, Wally who’s still grabbed his wrist and Wally with his face still twisted in an expression of shock. “You don't get to sit there and make me feel bad because this is your fault,  _ Kid Idiot _ !”

 

Wally opens his mouth again and Dick knows, he knows whatever comes out is going to be painful and he's not going to want to hear it. Right now he never wants to hear Wally open his stupid mouth say anything, ever.

 

Dick thinks,  _ his stupid mouth _ , and doesn't realize he's closed the gap between them until his nose has bumped Wally’s and he's kissing Wally West.

 

It's not great, it's barely even good. Mostly it’s terror and lightning on every nerve because it's Wally, Wally who twitches a bit but doesn't pull away. It’s not Dick’s first kiss, but it's probably the first one he's wanted so bad--ache settled deep into his bones because it's  _ Wally _ . Wally who face plants at least once a mission. Who still geeks out over comics even though he's literally a superhero. Who goes off into science-y physics tangents even Dick struggles to keep up with sometimes. Wally, who makes this choked noise and Dick kisses him and then he isn't anymore. Dick pulls away and stands up, Wally’s grip on his wrist now weak and easy to tear out of. Wally sits there dumbstruck, hand raised to cover his mouth where  _ Dick kissed him _ .

  
Dick walks away. His hands clench into fists at his sides, he doesn't know where he's going. He only knows he’ll lose his mind if he has to look at Wally for another second and be reminded of how wrong he was. You can't just feel whatever you decide to feel, because no matter how hard he tries he can't make himself want Wally any less.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, of course Wally won't run after him. Wally probably won't talk to him ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by redjadegem, my friend and I adore them and thank them for all their help. <3

Dick goes into the training room, confident after a few moments of fast walking that Wally won't try to catch up with him. His heart sinks.

 

No, of course Wally won't run after him. Wally probably won't talk to him ever again.

 

He can hear Superboy a mile away, but decides to go in regardless. Doesn’t hear Superboy talking, but the loud smacks and thumps of a fist colliding with a punching bag.

 

“Hey Supey,” he says, doesn't even bother to force false cheer into it. Superboy doesn't respond, only delivers a particularly sound punch. “Superboy.” Still no response, more punches. “Conner?”

 

“ _What_?” Superboy bites out, slightly scathing. Dick is a bit taken aback, but then again, Superboy is sort of always like this.

 

“D’you wanna spar?” Dick says, because the adrenaline is still coming off him in waves and he doesn't know how else to get rid of it.

 

Superboy pauses, mid blow. The poor, abused punching back swings back and forth. “No.”

 

Dick stares at him. “Why not?”

 

“I don't want to spar with _you_.”

 

“What?” Dick frowns, then laughs rudely. “I thought Black Canary already proved that super strength doesn't mean you can't get your butt handed to you.”

 

Superboy grimaces, probably at the memory. “It doesn't have anything to do with powers.”

 

Dick steps forward, on the mat under Superboy’s feet. “Then _why_?”

 

“I heard you.”

 

Dick steps back, like he's been burned, and of course Conner heard him. Conner has super hearing, and Dick _was_ yelling.

 

Then, Superboy says, “You lied to me.”

 

“I what?”

 

“You _lied_ to me,” Superboy says, and turns to face him, fuming. “I'd never seen the moon before the three of you came along, and you thought it'd be funny to trick me?”

 

“I didn't,” Dick starts, then stops. Because he kind of did. “It’s complicated.”

 

Superboy shoves the punching bag hard enough for it to topple over with a loud bam and clatter. “That's what everyone always tells me, but it isn't. You said it's wrong, and then you said, I _heard_ you, to Wally--”

 

“I know.” Dick sits down on the edge of the mat, miserable. “I _thought_ I was telling you and Miss M the truth, sort of.”

 

“That doesn't make any sense,” Superboy says, but he doesn't leave.

 

So, Dick says, “Some people _do_ think it's wrong. I guess I tried to make myself think that way, too.”

 

Superboy is quiet for a moment. “Why?”

 

This again? “I don't _know_ ,” Dick says. “They say it's not natural.”

 

Superboy drops next to him on the mat. “I meant, why would you make yourself think that way?”

 

“Because--” Dick can't really look at him. “People get so stupid when they find out that you’re, that. They hate you. You hate yourself. It hurts less if you. Act like you’re not.”

 

Superboy considers this. “But you are.”

 

Dick nods, once, jerkily.

 

“I heard,” Superboy says, cheeks tinged pink but otherwise unbothered. “I heard you mention me.”

 

Dick’s mouth falls open a little. “Oh, I. Yeah. Sorry. It was, um, in the moment, I said that. But it’s not, _that_ way. No offense. You’re good looking. But M’gann totally digs you.”

 

Superboy says, “Oh.” A pause. “No, she doesn’t.”

 

Dick pulls a face. “Are you blind? Because she’s all over you, dude.”

 

“No.” Superboy frowns. “I care about her. I like her. I know she cares about me. But to her, I’d just be her perfect boyfriend to complete the perfect TV life she’s always wanted since she got on earth. I could be anyone.”

 

“You’re really overthinking,” Dick says, but Superboy sort of is and sort of isn’t. Dick’s not even sure if he could argue with a reason like that. The psychoanalysis of M’gann is more than a bit out of his comfort zone. Not to mention hearing this analysis from Still Haven’t Gotten The Hang of Using My Words Superboy. It’s a bit much to take in.

 

“So,” Superboy says, probably to change the subject. “Wally, then?”

 

Dick pulls his knees up to his chest. God, why does it hurt so much to just hear the name out loud. “Yeah,” he says, quietly. “Wally.”

 

Superboy does not look pleased. “I think he likes M’gann.”

 

“I know,” Dick says, buries his face in his knees.

 

“But I think he likes you more.”

 

Dick raises his head, just a little. “That’s nice, but you don’t have to try to make me feel like less of a colossal ass.”

 

Superboy looks puzzled. “I’m not.” As if the idea of lying to appease someone’s ego hasn’t even occurred to him. “Why would I do that?”

 

Dick doesn’t say anything.

 

So, Superboy goes on. His eyes are downcast. “I still don’t, exactly, you know. Get people. But the way he…” He shrugs. “It’s sort of how M’gann acts around me. Only, it’s different. I guess because you two are already friends. More, natural. I notice. Wally, he’s always touching you or making some inside joke with you. Maybe he doesn’t even realize it, but there’s clearly some connection. You weren’t a colossal ass to point that out.” He hesitates. “Though, there was probably a better _way_ to point it out.”

 

“Fair point,” Dick says, and he feels lightheaded. He hasn’t been imagining it, then, how it is around Wally. An outsider looking in could even tell. But slowly the feeling deflates as Dick falls back into reality. That’s all nice evidence Wally and he are close, but… “Still, all that only means we had a great friendship that I completely ruined.” Dick falls back on the mat with a thud. “I hadn’t meant to even say anything. I was so mad and it all slipped out, then I kissed him--”

 

“You kissed him?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Superboy looks annoyed now. He stands up suddenly, and Dick’s eyes widen. “You kissed Wally, the meta human. Kid Flash.”

 

“Uh, I said _yeah_. Does your super hearing go in and out?”

Superboy barks a laugh, and the strangeness of it makes Dick blink in surprise. When’s the last time he’s even seen a genuine smile out of Superboy, let alone a genuine laugh?

 

It’s a few seconds, at best, then Superboy returns to his sullen expression. “You’re being stupid right now.”

 

Dick seizes up suddenly, reels at the insult. He’s poised to fire back but Superboy’s across the room and gone faster than he can think up anything decent. So he just calls after him, “ _So_ glad we had this talk, Superboy. I definitely know who to go to when I need a shoulder to cry on.”

 

\--

 

It’s not until patrol that night, mid grapple swing on the side of a rooftop does Dick _get it_. “Oh,” he says, out loud, and his boot slips and he nearly plummets.

 

Except Batman lands at his side and pushes him from teetering off the edge with a firm flat palm between his shoulder blades. “Robin,” he says, harshly. “Pay attention. Is it time for you to double back?”

 

That’s a nice way of asking if Robin’s too sleepy to keep patrolling. Dick hates that, he’s not a kid. Okay, he sort of is, but not a baby who needs to be put down for bedtime. Dick grits his teeth. “No.”

 

That single instant was all it took for Batman to keep him from falling. Wally was Kid Flash. He could be across a room, out of Dick’s grasp in less than an instant. Before Dick could draw a breath. For Wally, an instant probably felt like a minute.

 

For Wally to not duck out of Dick’s way the millisecond he leaned in, that meant something, _specifically_ for Wally. Something. _That’s_ what Superboy meant.

 

Dick _is_ being stupid.

 

(8)

 

Dick works out what he’s going to say to Wally word for word when they see each other again. He agonizes over every phrase, every moment. Wally is his best friend, and he doesn’t want to lose that or ruin it even more than he already has. But he also can’t get Superboy’s words out of his head. He combs through years of friendship and yeah, it doesn’t seem irrational to get the idea that Wally might like him. Even still, his speech is crafted as an apology for what happened. He works in a line to maybe weedle of out Wally why he didn’t dodge the kiss or push Dick away, but only at the end. Only once he’s seen how much of his friendship he can salvage.

 

His whole plan falls apart when he gets to Mount Justice late on Saturday. He’d meant to come in early, talk to Wally privately, but--Batman is mid briefing on a new mission. Robin sidles up next to Artemis, gives a short wave. Aqualad and M’gann wave back, Superboy grunts at the floor, Artemis nods and Wally...adverts his eyes like Dick is a basilisk.

 

Great. This is the game they’re playing? Wally won’t even fake normal?

 

“Sorry,” Dick says, to Batman. “Calendar man was mid heist at Hobby Lobby.”

 

Artemis snorts. “Calendar man?”

 

Dick cracks a grin. “I know, right? I’d have left it to the cops, but he had a hostage.”

 

“You’re here now,” Batman says, not scolding but not pleased. “As a quick overview, the mission is a covert recon only. You’re assigned to a series of tunnels underneath the Gotham river said to facilitate underground illegal venom trading. Only engage if absolutely necessary, otherwise you’re simply to confirm or deny the suspicions and then retreat with information of buyers, sellers and if possible where the next trade is taking place.”

 

Dick nods. He’s partially listening, partially glancing at Wally out of the corner of his eye. Wally’s at M’gann’s side, says something to her that makes her blush and smile evenly. Dick can’t help but feel his mouth twist into a scowl.

 

“Cool,” Dick says, struggles to make his expression flat and concealed. Aqualad fixes him with a mildly concerned look, so Dick turns away a bit. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” He stalks off towards the hangar, the rest of the team trail behind him.

 

“We were waiting on _you_ ,” Artemis grumbles, long legs easily catch up to stride alongside him.

 

In the bio ship, unsurprisingly, Wally picks the seat farthest away from Dick. It’s childish. It’s annoying. It’s...a little _hurtful_.

 

He pulls up his wrist computer and starts to download every underground map of the Gotham sewers he can find to clear his mind. It’s like a big maze, really. There’s a few dead ends in the way of old backup generators, but those are even further underneath. If anyone is doing illicit venom smuggling, there’s only a few ways in from the docks into the labyrinth. It won’t be hard, even a challenge, to find them.

 

With any luck they’ll soon be off this mission and back at the cave. Dick can pull Wally aside in private and give his methodical speech, and they’ll go back to normal.

 

Normal. Right.

 

\--

 

Normal flies further from reach when Aqualad splits them into groups. Or, tries to. “We’ll stay in touch via link and M’gann can give us the visualization of Robin’s maps. This way, we’ll be able to cover more bases.”

 

“And make less noise,” Dick adds, casts a glance to Superboy. Superboy steps heavily in the sludge around the entrance. The bio ship has already sunk into the river and concealed itself, close in range but out of sight. “Okay, I’ll take the furthest east tunnel.” It’s supposed to lead up, a dryer path around the sewage plant. Dick would feel guilty for taking the arguably best route, but he really really does not feel like drowning today. And drowning tends to happen to him, for some reason, more often than not as of late. He opens the map and fixes his eyes on it for a minute, to burn the image into his retinas and give M’gann something to project to the rest of them. <<I’ll keep in touch.>>

 

<<Not so fast, Robin,>> Aqualad’s voice cuts in, as if he’s right in front of Dick instead of already a few yards away. Dick pauses from where he’s half scaled up one of the pipes. <<We’re going in pairs, to lessen the chances of being lost. Take Kid Flash with you.>>

 

<<Actually,>> and that’s Wally’s voice, clear in his head, but to Aqualad. <<I call Megan!>>

 

<<You can't call dibs on a person,>> Artemis insists. <<You do realize she is one, right? A person?>>

 

<<Dial down, and technically she’s an _alien--_ >>

 

<<I call Superboy!>> M’gann squeaks, blush visible across her cheeks even in the darkness.

 

<<Then I'll go with Artemis,>> Wally says, frustrated. It’s a bit like a punch to the stomach.

 

<<No way!>> Artemis hisses, at the same time Kaldur starts-- <<Kid Flash…>>

 

<<Wow,>> Dick says or thinks or _whatever_ , as cold as ice. Each heartbeat pulses humiliation and hurt into his veins. <<Really? You honestly hate me so much that you'd embarrass the both of us by letting it get in the way of a mission? That's pathetic.>>

 

There's silence. Superboy’s eyes are downcast. M’gann has her hands over her mouth. Artemis just looks between Dick and Wally, completely floored.Wally still won't meet his eye, just frowns all red in the face. Coward. <<Robin…>> That's Kaldur, confused and warning, but--

 

<<That's _really_ pathetic, KF, >> Dick says, starts to scale up the pipe again. He feels the coldness settle over him now, like a protective sheet. If he can just compartmentalize enough, it doesn't even hurt so bad. << _Anyway_ , like I said, I'll be in touch.>>

 

Kaldur’s voice rolls over him like a tidal wave.<<Robin, stop this instant!>>

 

Dick stops. <<We're wasting time.>> His voice shakes, just a little.

 

<<We are wasting time. We'd have been paired off some time ago if the team could respect my decision making for once.>> Kaldur doesn't sound mad, but tired and his tone is strict and _final_ .  <<You are not to go alone. _Take Kid Flash_ \--whatever...issues, the two of you are having, take care of it after the mission. Artemis and I will take the northeast tunnel. Superboy and M’gann take the southernmost one.>>

 

Dick can feel his face heat up. There's no use arguing, though he wants to. Even Wally’s fallen into an eerie silence. He doesn't say anything, but climbs into the pipe and hears the noise of Wally crawling behind him.

 

He'll just do "the ninja thing" as Wally calls it, as soon as they're clear. Wally can find his own way around, as far as Dick’s concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you guys I hadn't abandoned this and I haven't! It's just going to take longer than I expected to wrap up, so here's a section of what I'm working on. I decided to not post a big chapter like I'd been planning but break it up. I hope you guys like it and subscribe/bookmark bc there's more coming soon! And maybe a new birdflash fic I want to start bc of how exicted I am about season 3. Be on the look out!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “At what point should I have slipped questioning my sexuality in casual conversation?”
> 
> “Before the point where you kiss me, probably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially un-beta'd, sorry in advance.
> 
> There's a quote that harkens to the original Justice League series, if you know it I love you.

He hops out of the pipe onto some wet gravel. It’s a long, damp tunnel and it's lit only by the light of Dick’s wrist computer. Something feels off, in that tense feeling you get in the bottom of your stomach, but Dick can't say what.

 

<<Rob.>>

 

Dick doesn't bother to turn around. He feels the ice that's frozen up his heart thaw. He steps lightly, squints at a map on the holo to align with where they should be checking for any shady deals. It's much too far.

 

<<Rob.>>

 

There's a split tunnel a bit down the ways. He'll crawl up the higher passage and ditch KF and…

 

<< _Robin_. >>

 

Dick swivels on the balls of his feet. There's like, this pressure in his throat. <<What do you _want_? >>

 

It's weird. KF in the low light, his eyes so serious. Most of his face is covered by his cowl but Dick can still make out the frown lines around his mouth. His nose is pink, and Dick finds himself struck wondering if he's cold.

 

<<I gotta say something,>> KF says.

 

<<You just did.>> Dick thinks how ironic it is, he was bleeding the whole day at KF ignoring him, and now the last thing he wants is to hear Wally speak. <<We'll deal with it later.>> It's Batman, really, seeping through his pores, and he's not proud but it is what it is.

 

<<No, I have to->>

 

<<It doesn't matter right now.>>

 

<<But when you->>

 

<<I don't _care_ ->>

 

<<No, if you'd just _listen_ ->>

 

<<Fine!>> Dick relents, because they're almost at the fork in the tunnel where he'll be able to slip out of sight. <<Okay, say whatever it is you just have to say _right now_. >>

 

Wally blurts out, out _loud_ , “I can't believe you didn't tell me!”

 

Dick's shocked into silence for a moment at the sound of Wally’s anguished voice echo against the tunnel. <<Yeah, just go ahead and let everyone within radius know we're here.>>

 

Wally lets out a frustrated noise and rolls his eyes, though his voice does dip quieter. “You're dodging the question.”

 

Dick gives up. “You didn't ask a question. You made a statement.”

 

Wally stares at Dick for a solid minute. “Splitting hairs much?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Okay. Rephrase.” Wally taps his chin. “ _Why_ ,” he whispers, harshly, “didn't you tell me?”

 

Dick exhales through his nose. Well, this is definitely not what he was expecting. In an effort to deflect once again, “We're really doing this? Now?”

 

Wally’s not even listening. “I didn’t realize after everything we've been through, a little trust was too much to ask."

 

“ _At what point_ should I have slipped questioning my sexuality in casual conversation?”

 

“Before the point where you kiss me, probably.”

 

Dick straightens up, heat in his face. Wally tried to make it sound bored,casual, but he's a terrible liar. The words came out more forced than anything. Dick turns away. “About that…”

 

They both stand there. Dick lets his sentence trail off, abandoned. Wally waits, but Dick can practically hear him _buzzing_.

 

Finally, Dick says, “I couldn't tell anyone. It wasn't like I was… _keeping_ something from you.”

 

“Okay.” Wally says, evenly. Considers this. “You would have told me, though? Even if the video game freak out hadn't happened, you would have told me?”

 

Dick thinks for a split second about lying, but before he can Wally cuts in the way he hates. “Never mind. I bet you would've kept it bottled up until you exploded somehow, it was only a _coincidence_ you were hanging out with me when you did.”

 

Dick gapes. Wally trudges ahead of him, probably doesn't even know where he's going-of course. Dick’s rooted to the spot for a second before he stalks after Wally. “You’re mad.”

 

Wally stays silent. Dick glares daggers at the back of his head. “You’re not even mad because I'm probably gay or because I kissed you, you're mad because I didn't run and tell you the second I thought we might not play for the same team? Before I even fully figured it out for myself?”

 

“Well,” Wally concedes, “when you say it like _that_ it makes me sound like a self important asshole.”

 

“Huh. Maybe you are a self important asshole.”

 

“Okay, but can you blame me?” Before Dick can get out that yes, and in fact he does- “You're my best friend. Full stop.” And then-Wally turns. Green eyes flicker around the tunnel before they meet Dick’s. “Earlier. When you were yelling at me in front of the team.”

 

Dick opens his mouth to apologize, because maybe he was a bit harsh. Wally reaches for him and grabs his arm. Gently. But his eyes are _fierce_. “Uh, KF?”

 

“I could never hate you!” Wally’s face is suddenly so red it'd be funny if not for the circumstance. “How could you say that? How could you even think that? I was afraid I’d say something else stupid, that's all, I wasn’t trying to-”

 

“It's fine,” Dick forces out. “I'm sorry, too. It's fine.”

 

Wally’s expression shifts. Softens. “And the kiss-”

 

<<Where is everyone?>>

 

Aqualads solemn voice in their heads jolts Dick and Wally back into the reality of their situation-a mission, oh, right. Dick shoves down all the squirming and screaming feelings, shoves down _the kiss_.  <<Still in the northern tunnels, haven't come across anything.>>

 

<<Lucky you.>> That's Artemis, she sounds strained. <<Kaldur and I hit the jackpot. But the jackpot’s jacked up on venom and it’s been taking some swings at us.>>

 

<<We'll find you,>> M’gann says.

 

<<It’s handled,>> Kaldur replies, firmly. <<M’gann and Superboy rendezvous at the southwestern entrance and block anything or anyone coming your way. Robin, I need you to get into this guy's phone. He's a distributer as well as user, so there has to be all kinds of pertinent information on what we stepped into. How fast can you get here?>>

 

There's a blur of movement, and KF’s crouched in front of him. <<In a flash!>> He winks.

 

The mind link fills with groans. Wally says, “Get on my back.”

 

Dick hates this, he really does. <<I promise you it wouldn't take _that_ much longer if I walked by myself. >>

 

<<Puh leaze, don't even. In case you've forgotten, I'm _literally_ the fastest boy alive. >>

 

Reluctantly, Dick does climb on. He hooks his arms around Wally’s shoulders. <<Which would explain why you can't get a date.>>

 

<< _Dude_! So uncalled for! >>

 

Artemis’ laughing fills the link, and Dick hadn't meant for everyone to hear but he doesn't really regret it.

 

“I should drop you,” Wally says. He snaps his goggles over his eyes.

  

Dick leans close to his ear. “Go ahead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, keep in mind this was originally combined with the previous chapter but I split them up. :^)
> 
> Next chapter soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis says, "Dizzy?"

Dick would sooner jump off the Wayne Tower head first (without a grapple) than admit it, but he loves these super speed piggyback rides. He likes to look down and watch the blur of Wally’s legs. The shifting landscape, bursts of color. How all the sound melds together once you’re going this fast. He’s almost sad when it’s over, and it’s over quickly. Okay, well, more nauseous than sad. There’s always a moment after they skid to a stop that he’s still clutching KF for dear life before he gets his bearings and lowers himself down.

Artemis says, “Dizzy?”

“Lil bit,” Dick admits reluctantly, unable to keep the waver out of his voice. His vision blurs, but only for a few moments. He’s aware of where they are, the long tunnel, Artemis and Aqualad staring him down...but the ground beneath his feet feels like it’s vibrating. KF looks apologetic for a moment, but he doesn’t say sorry at all. He laughs.

“Seriously? I was going so slowww. Can you imagine if I like, jogged? You’d probably puke.” KF smirks a little. “Or if I broke the sound barrier? Geez.”

It felt fast enough to break the sound barrier...Dick straightens and rolls his eyes. “Please. I could handle it.”

“Sure! You’d probably snap your own neck.”

<<Robin,>> Aqualad says. <<Please, if you could take a look at this device.>>

<<Sorry.>> He sidesteps KF and walks alongside Artemis and Kaldur. Kaldur hands him the phone, a more high tech burner, and Robin spares a glance to the knocked out cronies tied up alongside the tunnel. He makes a mental note to ring GCPD on their way out.

There’s a few moments of silence filled with nothing but the damp noises of the tunnel and Robin click click clicking away at the phone to try and unlock it. KF starts to argue with Artemis over something inconsequential, because he can’t be quiet for ten whole seconds, and Kaldur takes the moment to lean close to Robin and say, “I see you two worked it out.”

“We duct taped the crack in the dam, basically,” Robin admits, and it isn’t until he says it that he realizes how true it is. “But it'll hold until the missions over. Don't worry.”

Kaldur considers this. “My friend?”

“I'm trying to concentrate.”

There's a solid webbed hand on his shoulder. Dick looks down at it, a bit perplexed. Then, he looks up at Kaldur who gives this...sad look. “I know we are not as close of friends as we used to be when it was just the four of us--”

“Kal, you really don't have to--”

“But I am aware you've been having a rough time lately and I wish to be an, ah, shoulder to lean on. If you would let me.”

Dick sighs through his nose. “A shoulder.”

“What?”

“‘An’ is for when there's a vowel...never mind. Thanks, Aqualad. I appreciate it.”

“You're welcome, my friend.” Kaldur’s eyes widen, and when Robin looks down he realizes why. The phone is unlocked. “Well done.”

Robin frowns. He really wasn't paying attention, just aimlessly fiddling at this point. These dudes needed a better security method. “Uh, yeah. Piece of cake.”

They scrolls through it for a moment, Kaldur over Robin’s shoulder.

“No contacts,” Robin says. “Just a bunch of chemical formulas. What a let down.”

There's a zipping sound through the air, a blur, and suddenly Wally’s leaned over his shoulder. “Chemical formulas?”

Kaldur wrinkles his nose. “I have to admit, I'm not familiar with...any of this.”

“Leave it to me, dude!” Wally all but chirps. Robin rolls his eyes and begins transferring the files to the bigger screen of his wrist computer. When they pop up there, big and holographic, Wally points to a compound. “That's--”

“Venom,” Robin cuts in. “Just a concentrated strain, I know. I've seen it on Batman’s computer dozens of times.”

Wally’s silent for a moment. “What the hell is that?”

He points to the second part of the formula. Robin cocks his head to the side.

C21H23NO3

“It looks familiar,” Robin admits. “But I don't know.”

He highlights the phrase and runs a search on his database as Artemis saunters over.

“Huh,” KF says, again perched over Robin’s shoulder. “Anticholinergic 3-quinuclidinyl benzilate.”

Artemis’ eyes widen. “I know what that is. We uh, just learned about it in school. It was a chemical warfare agent in the 50’s and 60’s but the US downsized the programs before it could be used.”

Robin goes rigid. “I remember.” He feels suddenly cold. <<M’gann, any luck chasing down the other men?>>

Silence. Robin turns to KF. <<Can you hear me?>>

Wally stares back stupidly. “I got something on my face?”

Aqualad seems to have figured out the same problem. “It appears the psychic link is down, indicating that M’gann is incapacitated or weakened severely.”

“Megan!” Wally looks ready to bolt, and Artemis claps a hand on his shoulder.

“Stop!” she says. “We have to think about this and move as a group. If she and Superboy couldn't handle whatever she ran into, do you think you can?”

Wally glares at her, and then he isn't. With a blur he's gone.

“So much for sticking together,” Artemis mutters, and Aqualad crosses his arms.

“They're not outside! I checked the tunnels they went through and they're not anywhere!” Robin jumps in surprise and spins around. There is KF, distraught, not noticing he'd even startled Dick. “I found this.” He held up a small black dart.

Artemis shakes her head. “Oh no. So they were drugged. Explains the immediate radio silence.”

Robin exhales. “We have a problem. That compound I realized I've seen on Batman’s computers as well. It's fear toxin. Or, some crude form of it.”

Artemis blinks. “Wait. Venom and fear toxin?”

“These men must have been distributors, not users. They were surprisingly easy to incapacitate.”

Robin frowns. “Maybe M’gann and Superboy ran into some users.” He clicks around on his computer for a moment. “There’s something else here. It looks like an address. If I decode it, it could point us to where this stuff is being manufactured, and where M’gann and Superboy were taken.”

“We have to go help them!” Wally insists.

“My friend,” Kaldur says. “Of course we are going to.”

“It could be a trap,” Artemis says. “They have to know there are more of us.”

“Maybe we should call in the League,” Aqualad adds.

“No, we have the address,” Robin says. “We need to move right now. We can call Batman on the way, but every second we waste is a second Superboy and Miss M--”

“He's Kryptonian,” Artemis reasons. “And she's a Martian. They can't be in that much danger, they're nearly invulnerable.”

“If they drugged them with this compound, especially with their alien physiologies, an even accidental overdose could hurt them--or even kill them.”

She considers this. “Fair point. But are we going to be able to find and work the bioship without M’gann?”

Robin sighs. “Probably not.” He pulls up his wrist computer again. “Thankfully we’re pretty close to the bat cave. My motorcycle’s on its way.”

Artemis makes a face. “Like, remote controlled? Sweet, but there's four of us.”

“KF can go on foot,” Robin reasoned. “You and Aqualad take the bike. I'll send the location to the bike on GPS.”

“That's very well thought out, my friend,” Aqualad says. “Thank you, however I am still left with the question, what will you do? I believe the maximum to fit on the motorcycle would be two?”

Robin tries to make it casual, but stumbles slightly. “I, well, I guess I'll have to go with KF.” He turns, hopes that his face isn't too pink. “Is that a problem?”

KF stares at him for a moment, unblinkingly. “Huh? Oh! No! Not at all. You're pretty light. It shouldn't be, I mean, it'll be fine. Yeah. All aboard.”

Aqualad and Artemis exchange a wordless look. “Riiight,” she says. “You two go ahead. We'll wait up for the bike outside, then follow. No time to waste, right?” She gives a weak smile, edged with what seems like poorly masked fear.

Robin wants to tell her it'll be okay, but he doesn't. He nods, rights himself, then crawls on KF’s back the same way he had before. He's hunched a little to make it easier. KF’s hands snap his goggles into place over his eyes, then come under Robin’s knees to hold him in place.

“You'll probably want to tuck your face in. So you don't hurt your eyes, or get sick. I'm going to go a bit faster this time.”

Robin processes this with the loading speed of internet explorer. “Tuck my face in,” he repeats, dumbly. Where? And it takes him a second to realize he's supposed to press his nose to the back of KF’s neck, and when he does realize it, he draws his mouth into a thin line and says, “All right,” in the voice you use when you desperately don't want to betray how tight your heart has seized up.

“All right,” Robin says, and then…

The city lights. He can't help but look, fingers clutched around KF’s shoulders for dear life. It's so gorgeous, the stretched blur of reflections across the Gotham river. The miserable city looks almost mesmerizing like this.

“You'll get sick,” KF yells, and noticeably slows down. “I know it's pretty, but…”

Robin doesn't care, but he presses his face to the side of Wally’s neck anyway, pushes his nose right underneath Wally’s ear. He feels the tenseness of Wally’s jaw as he swallows. This is another one of those moments, between terror and uncertainty, where it's just the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the support! I haven't abandoned this and I definitely intend to finish and continue it. I'm probably going to continue this arc in another story, but as you can see the action is definitely picking up! Check back or subscribe to my account for updates! I love you guys so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️


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